


when the teacup shatters

by hollyhobbit101



Series: Whumptober 2020 [2]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Violence, Canonical Character Death, Dreams, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt Will Graham, Whumptober, Whumptober 2020, it's abigail guys abigail dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:49:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26780140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollyhobbit101/pseuds/hollyhobbit101
Summary: Will dreams that Hannibal Lecter is standing over him.“Choose,” he says.(post-season two; pre-season three.whumptober day 2 - choose who dies)
Relationships: Will Graham & Abigail Hobbs, Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter
Series: Whumptober 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947304
Kudos: 4
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	when the teacup shatters

**Author's Note:**

> honestly never thought i'd write hannibal fic but here we are. not sure if it makes sense but hey neither does the show half the time.
> 
> whumptober prompt - 'choose who dies'

Will dreams that Hannibal Lecter is standing over him.

“Choose,” he says. 

Will frowns. 

“Choose,” Hannibal repeats, except this time there’s a knife in his hand.  _ The  _ knife. He’s holding it out, handle first, waiting for Will to take it. 

He does.

He traces his fingers over the blade, and does not wince when it cuts him. His blood stains it, but that is nothing new.

Hannibal tuts. “That blade is not for you, Will,” he admonishes, then seems to reconsider. “Not yet.”

Will looks up at Hannibal, then follows his gaze across the room to the fireplace. There are two figures there, two dark masses, which, as Will watches, begin to coalesce. Abigail, one. Jack, the other.

The blade is heavy in his hands, and Will knows without being told what Hannibal is asking of him.

Still, he says it anyway. “There is only space for one of them in your world, Will. You must choose.”

Will does not move, just watches them. Abigail smiles tremulously; Jack is as stoic as ever, but there is a sort of hurt in his eyes, as if he already knows how Will has chosen.

Funny. Will isn’t even sure himself.

(or maybe he is. this is his dream, after all.)

Hannibal sighs, disappointment written all over his face. “Surely it is not so hard?” he asks. “You have already made this choice once before.”

Will starts at that. “It is not the same,” he says, but Hannibal shakes his head.

“Of course it is.”

“No, if I had known about Abigail, I -”

“Abigail is of no consequence,” Hannibal interrupts smoothly. “Here, she represents everything you could have had. Everything  _ we  _ could have had. The two choices before you are the same choices you have always had, and the only ones you will ever have. Do you understand?”

Will looks at him. There is no malice in Hannibal’s eyes, but then, there never really was. He nods slowly. “Then there is no true choice at all.”

Hannibal concedes that one. “Perhaps not,” he allows. “Nevertheless, you must choose.”

Will knows how this must go. He doesn’t want it to, but Hannibal is right. The choice is already made; the teacup has already shattered. There is no reversing time or putting things back together again, he knows this now. 

He stands and makes his way to the fireplace. Jack disappears into smoke, and Abigail turns willingly into his embrace, his body moving without him asking it to to put the knife on her neck.

“Forgive me,” he manages, before pulling his arm back. He is crying, his tears mingling with her blood on his face as she drops to the floor, his cries joining hers.

Will drops to his knees next to her, hands futilely scrabbling at her neck, trying to piece her back together. The knife is gone, but Will does not need to wonder where it went; Hannibal joins him on the floor, pulling him away from Abigail, and into some perversion of a lovers’ embrace. Will gasps as the knife enters him, and clings on tighter to Hannibal.

“Close your eyes, Will,” Hannibal instructs, voice soft. “Wade into the stream.”

This time, Will listens. 

The darkness, when it comes, is a mercy.


End file.
